


Distractions

by Defira



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old drabble I wrote to cheer up Chroma back in November of last year. Just some silly smutty fun with her Skylen Hawke and Anders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hockeyperu319](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hockeyperu319/gifts).



The cellars beneath the manor were the perfect place for tinkering, out of the way of Sandal and Mother, out of the way of Merrill when she came to visit- that girl just seemed to attract trouble some days, and the last thing anyone wanted was for Merrill’s incurable proficiency for clumsiness to interact with Skylen’s poisons. Not that anyone really dared to interrupt him these days, not after the incident with the diluted mixture of Deathroot and ichor that he’d been experimenting with at the time- Isabela had been bright green for days after that.

Sometimes it was a little lonely, but then he’d get wrapped up in his work and lunch would be hours behind him and it wouldn’t really matter because it was just _far_ too interesting to stop. Because he’d find a new recipe that was almost the right consistency for what he wanted, and so that would require further testing and so he’d tweak the burner up a little higher and then… the poison would thicken and burn until it was practically unworkable. And so then it was a merry jaunt to try and replicate what he’d done up until that point.

Working in the cellars did have its benefits of course: when an experiment went wrong, only he had to deal with the clouds of choking gas and the noxious tars that seemed determined to eat straight through the floor and down to the Deep Roads. Sure, he didn’t see the sun a lot some days, but that didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Plus, Anders usually came home through the cellars after a day of tending to the sick and wounded, and as long as he gave Skylen plenty of warning when he came through, they tended to avoid any unpleasant surprises with spilled poisons.

Which was why it was more than a little alarming when he felt hot breath dance over his neck about half a second before a pair of lips brushed over his skin.

Skylen froze, his hands occupied by a very delicate balancing act that involved two beakers, a measuring spoon, a burner and three very flammable ingredients. “Anders?” he whispered, not wanting to speak too loudly lest the very sound itself cause the lyrium dust piled high on the spoon to billow up into the air.

The lips danced against the nape of his neck, a flicker of tongue hot and wet against his skin; hands came to rest gently on his hips, sliding ever so slowly around the curve of his waist as he sat hunched over the bench. “I missed you today, love,” came the soft reply, his voice laden with sensual promise. Just that whisper alone, the hint of lust and desire, the promise of a languid evening spent locked together in their room, was enough to have his hands trembling almost instantly.

Taking a deep breath, gasping a little when those hands ran a little further around his waist and then _down_ , he said “Uhh, Anders, love, I just have to- _hnngh_.” His lover dipped his hands even lower, pressing himself up against his back as his fingers rubbed smoothly along his thighs. “Oh Maker, Anders! I have to… I have to put these things down, just- give me two seconds and I’ll be all yours.”

Another hot kiss was pressed to his neck, closer to the juncture of his shoulder, and he moaned appreciatively, tilting his head a little to side to allow him better access. “I’m fairly certain you’re already mine,” Anders murmured, scraping his teeth ever so lightly at the tender point below his jaw. “And I don’t mind if you keep working love.”

The hands ran dangerously high up the inside of his thigh, and Skylen gasped; a tiny trickle of ichor fell from one of the beakers as the trembling in his hands worsened. “Love, I’m serious,” he moaned, his breath hitching as Anders’ fingers began to toy with the laces of his pants. “I have three very deadly ingredients in my hand, all of which are fairly obnoxiously bad for you by themselves, but together are-”

Anders bit down ever so gently on his earlobe, tugging at it until Skylen whimpered. “Well then,” he said softly, dangerously. “You’d best not drop any of them.”

At the first touch of his fingers, it was all he could do not to buck into that familiar touch. Warm, elegant fingers, callused and firm and so _very_ clever, and he just grasped him so _perfectly_. “Anders,” he gasped; a sprinkle of lyrium dust went trickling from the spoon in a steady stream, vanishing before it even hit the bench top. “Love, I can’t-”

“Don’t let me interrupt you, Sky.” His hand began to move, and his mouth was drifting higher, teasing just beyond the reach of his lips; if he turned his head to the side quickly, he might be able to lunge for him and grab a quick kiss, but the potion ingredients were balanced so precariously as it was… “Look, you’re dropping your things; you should concentrate on your work, love.”

Skylen gritted his teeth, concentrating on not spilling the magnificently acidic concentrate all over his lap. “You are insufferable sometimes.” He meant it as a reprimand, but it came out decidedly breathy instead.

“I do my best,” Anders murmured, and indeed he did.

It was near on impossible, and in the end he lost his grip on one of the beakers, corrupter agent splashing over the bench and against the marble basin; he vaguely heard the tell-tale sizzle as it burned through the scarred wood, but he was too lost to care. Anders felt hot and wonderful behind him, his cock pressing into his lower back between their clothes, his lips and teeth on his neck and his hand playing and teasing so magnificently. Skylen cried out hoarsely at the end, the lyrium dust spilling everywhere, sparking bright blue as it wafted down onto the corrupter. It was remarkably pretty for such a deadly display, a fact they were reminded of a moment later as the noxious fumes rose up in place of the sparks.

Anders tugged him backwards, laughing as Skylen stumbled against him on shaky legs. “Oh love,” he said, shaking his head and tugging the rogue up against him, nipping at the corner of his mouth, “you really shouldn’t get distracted like that. Look at all the mess you’ve made.”

Laughing shakily, the sound just as wobbly as his legs, Skylen said “Well, then, you’d best take me upstairs and get me cleaned up.”


End file.
